


How to Take Care of Your Brother: Part 2

by Descended_from_Hufflepuffs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester, Canonical Character Death, Desperate Sam Winchester, Episode: s03e11 Mystery Spot, First Time Topping, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, Rough Sex, Top Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:41:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29562072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Descended_from_Hufflepuffs/pseuds/Descended_from_Hufflepuffs
Summary: Over 100 Tuesdays.Over 100 ways for Dean to die.Over 100 mornings waking up to see Dean alive and well.One Wednesday after another, constant reminders that his brother was dead, dead and gone and probably roasting in hell and there was nothing he could do about it.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 77





	How to Take Care of Your Brother: Part 2

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone piece, despite the title. No need to search frantically for part one. You're good.

Over 100 Tuesdays.

Over 100 ways for Dean to die.

Over 100 mornings waking up to see Dean alive and well.

One Wednesday after another, constant reminders that his brother was dead, dead and gone and probably roasting in hell and there was nothing he could do about it.

6 months of moving on autopilot, tracking the trickster that did this, the fucker that trapped him in a loop and killed his brother and for what? To teach him a lesson? To try and tell Sam Winchester that he couldn’t save the one person that mattered more to him than anything in this world or the next? To serve him his “just desserts” for not rolling over like a dead dog?

Someone else needed to learn a fucking lesson.

He killed Bobby (or, rather, the figment of non-reality that pretended to be Bobby). He begged the trickster to make it right. He needed Dean. He didn't care if the world would fall apart if he stopped Dean from going to Hell. Hell had already taken too much from him. They couldn’t have Dean. Not now, not ever. So he begged. He yelled and he begged and he threatened and somehow it worked.

He woke up.

It was Wednesday again.

And Dean was standing at the sink in their dingy motel room that no amount of flamingos could cheer up and he was  _ there _ and  _ alive _ and complaining about the radio station on the clock and Sam could kiss him just for existing because not being able to touch him or hear that stupide voice for months was just  _ too fucking much _ .

He didn’t say a word. He just walked over and hugged Dean so tight, too tight, so he couldn’t break it and leave him again. Dean couldn’t leave him again. Never. 

“Everything okay, Sammy?”

Dean sounded worried. Sam would probably be worried too if their places were switched. He should probably answer with something like “Yeah I’m fine” or maybe “No I’m not I just lived six months without you and killed Bobby and begged a cosmic being to bring you back like a pathetic piece of shit” but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not when his heart was pounding in his ears and he was suddenly aware of everything in the motel room that could possibly bring Dean harm. He needed Dean. He needed  _ more _ of Dean.

“How long do we have until checkout?”

“Dude, this place is pay-by-the-hour.”

“Do we have money for a few more hours?”

“Sam-”

Sam pushed Dean up against the wall and silenced any protests with a heated kiss. His left hand gripped Dean’s ass while his right hand pushed his shirt up, greedily feeling the body he’d missed for so long. This was good and right and perfect and just what he needed but still not nearly enough. 

His mouth trailed down to Dean’s neck and sucked a mark high enough on the flesh so that it couldn’t be hidden by the clothes he desperately wanted out of the way  _ now _ and let the sweet sounds falling out of his brother’s mouth wash over him. His older brother was so very responsive when he let himself be and right now that’s just what Sam needed. He needed to feel Dean under his hands, hear his moans, feel Dean’s hands gripping his shoulders, all those little reminders that Dean is  _ here  _ and  _ alive _ and  _ safe _ .

“S-Sam, Sammy, what-”

Sam kissed him again and lifted Dean’s legs around his waist. “Dean, please. I-I can’t…. I need-”

Dean shushed him with a soft kiss. “It’s okay, Sammy. I know you had a...a  _ thing _ yesterday. Whatever you need.”

_ Whatever you need. _

That was what he missed most about having Dean. He’d never trust anyone else the same, never love anyone else the same, never  _ need _ anyone else the same. How was he going to cope when Dean was gone for good?

He didn’t want to think about that right now. Or ever, if he was being honest.

“I- Can I fuck you?” Sam blurted, eyes pleading, searching his brother’s face for any sign of rejection. He’d never asked before, never felt the need to. He liked it when Dean fucked him, lft him wonderfully sore and full for days. But this was different. He needed to feel Dean.  _ All of Dean _ . 

Dean just nodded, gripping Sam's hair and pulling him back in for the kiss. "Whatever you want, Sammy. I got you."

Sam clutched Dean closer, if that were even possible, and carried him back to the bed. He tugged at Dean’s clothes. He wanted, needed more contact  _ now _ . And Dean just let him take.

It wasn’t soft or sweet, though they rarely did that. It was rough and desperate and pleading and hard and  _ please Dean please can I please  _ and  _ I got you Sammy I got you _ and a million things they’d never say and more they’d pretend they never said. It was passion and neck bites and  _ forget the condom  _ and barely enough lube and gripping each other so tight there were bound to be bruises for days. It was desire and  _ need _ and a little blood and leaving a dent in the wall because Sam didn’t really care and it was all on a card anyway. 

And after it was soft. It was  _ sorry about that _ and patching up the scratches on Sammy’s back and some of the bites on Dean’s shoulder. It was Dean falling asleep  _ cuz you’re a fucking Energizer Bunny sometimes _ and scrounging up a little cash as an apology for the housekeeping staff. It was Sam packing things up so they could leave as soon as Dean woke up and making up reasons why they could just skip breakfast and eat on the road. It was  _ everything is okay _ and not taking his eyes off Dean for a minute because  _ nothing is okay _ and praying that next time he woke up it’d be Thursday.

Sam could really use a good fucking Thursday.


End file.
